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g 


THe,  JPcurlor  Ccur. 


FARCE. 


BY 


WILLIAM    D.   HOWELLS 


BOSTON: 
JAMES  R.  OSGOOD    AND    COMPANY, 

Late  Ticknor  &•  Fields,  and  Fields,  Osgood,  &•  Co, 
1876. 


Copyright, 
W.    D.    HOWELLS. 


58K9 


University  Press:  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co., 
Cambridge. 


THE   PARLOR   CAR. 


FARCE. 

SCENE  :  A  Parlor  Car  on  the  New  York  Cen 
tral  Railroad.  It  is  late  afternoon  in  the 
early  autumn,  with  a  cloudy  sunset  threaten 
ing  rain.  The  car  is  unoccupied  save  by  a 
gentleman,  who  sits  fronting  one  of  the  win 
dows,  ivith  his  feet  in  another  chair  ;  a  news 
paper  lies  across  his  lap ;  his  hat  is  drawn 
down  over  his  eyes,  and  he  is  apparently 
asleep.  The  rear  door  of  the  car  opens,  and 
the  conductor  enters  with  a  younq  lady, 

*/  «-/  tx   * 

heavily  'veiled,  the  porter  coming  after  with 
her  wraps  and  travelling -bam.     The  lady's 

2821.36 


4 


CAR, 


air  is  of  mingled  anxiety  and  desperation^ 
with  a  certain  fierceness  of  movement.  She 
casts  a  careless  glance  over  the  empty  chairs. 

;ONDUCTOE.  "  Here 's  your 
J  ticket,  madam.  You  can  have 
any  of  the  places  you  like  here,  or/'  — 
glancing  at  the  unconscious  gentleman, 
and  then  at  the  young  lady,  —  "  if  you 
prefer,  you  can  go  and  take  that  seat  in 
the  forward  car." 

Miss  LUCY  GALBEAITH.  "  0,  I 
can't  ride  backwards.  I'll  stay  here, 
please.  Thank  you/'  The  porter 
places  her  things  in  a  chair  by  a  win 
dow,  across  the  car  from  the  sleeping 
gentleman,  and  she  throws  herself  wea- 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  5 

rily  into  the  next  seat,  wheels  round  in 
it,  and  lifting  her  veil  gazes  absently 
out  at  the  landscape.  Her  face,  which 
is  very  pretty,  with  a  low  forehead  shad 
owed  by  thick  blond  hair,  shows  the 
traces  of  tears.  She  makes  search  in 
her  pocket  for  her  handkerchief,  which 
she  presses  to  her  eyes.  The  conductor, 
lingering  a  moment,  goes  out. 

PORTER.  "I'll  be  right  here,  at  de 
end  of  de  cah,  if  you  should  happen  to 
want  anything,  miss/''  —  making  a  feint 
of  arranging  the  shawls  and  satchels. 
"  Should  you  like  some  dese  things 
hung  up  ?  "Well,  dey  '11  be  jus'  as  well 
in  de  chair.  We  's  pretty  late  dis  after- 


THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

noon ;  more  'n  four  hours  behin'  time. 
Ought  to  been  into  Albany  'fore  dis. 
Freight  train  off  de  track  jus'  dis  side 
o'  Rochester,  an'  had  to  wait.  Was 
you  goin'  to  stop  at  Schenectady, 
miss  ?  " 

Miss  G.,  absently.  "At  Schenec 
tady  ?  "  After  a  pause,  "  Yes." 

PORTER.  "  Well,  that 's  de  next  sta 
tion,  and  den  de  cahs  don't  stop  ag'in 
till  dey  git  to  Albany.  Anything  else 
I  can  do  for  you  now,  miss  ?  " 

Miss  G.  "  No,  no,  thank  you,  noth 
ing."  The  porter  hesitates,  takes  off 
his  cap,  and  scratches  his  head  with  a 
murmur  of  embarrassment.  Miss  Gal- 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  7 

braith  looks  up  at  him  inquiringly,  and 
then  suddenly  takes  out  her  porte-mon- 
naie  and  fees  him. 

PORTER.  "Thank  you,  miss,  thank 
you.  If  you  want  anything  at  all,  miss, 
I'm  right  dere  at  de  end  of  de  cah." 
He  goes  out  by  the  narrow  passage-way 
beside  the  smaller  enclosed  parlor. 
Miss  Galbraith  looks  askance  at  the 
sleeping  gentleman,  and  then,  rising, 
goes  to  the  large  mirror,  to  pin  her  veil, 
which  has  become  loosened  from  her 
hat.  She  gives  a  little  start  at  sight 
of  the  gentleman  in  the  mirror,  but 
arranges  her  head-gear,  and  returning 
to  her  place  looks  out  of  the  window 


8  THE    PARLOft   CAR. 

again.  After  a  little  while  she  moves 
about  uneasily  in  her  chair,  then  leans 
forward  and  tries  to  raise  her  window  ; 
she  lifts  it  partly  up,  when  the  catch 
slips  from  her  fingers  and  the  window 
falls  shut  again  with  a  crash. 

Miss  G.  "  0  dear,  how  provoking ! 
I  suppose  I  must  call  the  porter."  She 
rises  from  her  seat,  but  on  attempting 
to  move  away  she  finds  that  the  skirt  of 
her  polonaise  has  been  caught  in  the 
falling  window.  She  pulls  at  it,  and 
then  tries  to  lift  the  window  again,  but 
the  cloth  has  wedged  it  in,  and  she  can 
not  stir  it.  "  Well,  I  certainly  think 
this  is  beyond  endurance !  Porter ! 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  9 

Ah,  —  porter  !  0,  he  '11  never  hear 
me  in  the  racket  that  these  wheels  are 
making  !  I  wish  they  'd  stop,  —  I  —  " 

The  gentleman  stirs  in  his  cltair,  lifts 
his  head,  listens,  takes  his  feet  down 
from  the  other  seat,  rises  abruptly,  and 
comes  to  Miss  Galbraith's  side. 

MR.  ALLEN  RICHARDS.  "  Will  you 
allow  me  to  open  the  window  for 
you?"  Starting  back,  "Miss  Gal- 
braith  !  " 

Miss  G.  "Al  —  Mr.  Richards!" 
There  is  a  silence  for  some  moments,  in 
which  they  remain  looking  at  each 
other ;  then, 

MR.  RICHARDS.    "  Lucy  —  " 


10  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

Miss  G.    "  I  forbid  you  to  address 
me  in  that  way,  Mr.  Richards." 

MR.  R.  "  Why,  you  were  just  going 
to  call  me  Allen  !  " 

Miss  G.  "  That  was  an  accident, 
you  know  very  well,  —  an  impulse  —  " 

MR.  E.   "  Well,  so  is  this/' 

Miss  G.  "  Of  which  you  ought 
to  be  ashamed  to  take  advantage.  I 
wonder  at  your  presumption  in  speak 
ing  to  me  at  all.  It 's  quite  idle,  I  can 
assure  you.  Everything  is  at  an  end 
between  us.  It  seems  that  I  bore  with 
you  too  long  ;  but  I  'm  thankful  that  I 
had  the  spirit  to  act  at  last,  and  to  act 
in  time.  And  now  that  chance  has 


THE    PAELOE    CAE.  H 

thrown  us  together,  I  trust  that  you 
will  not  force  your  conversation  upon 
me.  No  gentleman  would,  and  I  have 
always  given  you  credit  for  thinking 
yourself  a  gentleman.  I  request  that 
you  will  not  speak  to  me." 

ME.  K.  "  You  've  spoken  ten  words 
to  me  for  every  one  of  mine  to  you. 
But  I  won't  annoy  you.  I  can't  be 
lieve  it,  Lucy ;  I  can  not  believe  it.  It 
seems  like  some  rascally  dream,  and  if 
I  had  had  any  sleep  since  it  happened, 
I  should  think  I  had  dreamed  it." 

Miss  G.  "  Oh  !  You  were  sleeping 
soundly  enough  when  I  got  into  the 
car  ! " 


12  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

MR.  R.    "  I  own  it ;  I  was  perfectly 
used  up,  and  I  had  dropped  off." 

Miss  G.,  scornfully.    "  Then  perhaps 
you  have  dreamed  it." 

MR.  E.  "  I  '11  think  so  till  you  tell 
me  again  that  our  engagement  is 
broken ;  that  the  faithful  love  of  years 
is  to  go  for  nothing ;  that  you  dismiss 
me  with  cruel  insult,  without  one  word 
of  explanation,  without  a  word  of  in 
telligible  accusation,  even.  It's  too 
much  !  I  've  been  thinking  it  all  over 
and  over,  and  I  can't  make  head  or  tail 
of  it.  I  meant  to  see  you  again  as 
soon  as  we  got  to  town,  and  implore 
you  to  hear  me.  Come,  it's  a  mighty 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  13 

serious  matter,  Lucy.  I  'm  not  a  man 
to  put  on  heroics  and  that ;  but  /  be 
lieve  it  '11  play  the  very  deuce  with  me, 
Lucy,  —  that  is  to  say,  Miss  Galbraith, 
—  I  do  indeed.  It  '11  give  me  a  low 
opinion  of  woman/' 

Miss  G.,  averting  her  face.  "0,  a 
very  high  opinion  of  woman  you  have 
had ! " 

MR.  E.,  with  sentiment.  "Well, 
there  was  one  woman  whom  I  thought 
a  perfect  angel." 

Miss  G.  "  Indeed !  May  I  ask  her 
name  ?  " 

MR.  E.,  with  a  forlorn  smile.  "  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  describe  her  some 
what  formally  as  —  Miss  Galbraith/' 


14  THE    PARLOR,    CAR. 

Miss  G.    "  Mr.  Richards  !  " 

MR.  E.  "  Why,  you  've  just  forbid 
den  me  to  say  Lucy  !  You  must  tell 
me,  dearest,  what  I  have  done  to  offend 
you.  The  worst  criminals  are  not  con 
demned  unheard,  and  I've  always 
thought  you  were  merciful  if  not  just. 
And  now  I  only  ask  you  to  be  just/' 

Miss  G.,  looking  out  of  the  win 
dow.  "You  know  very  well  what 
you  've  done.  You  can't  expect  me  to 
humiliate  myself  by  putting  your  of 
fence  into  words." 

MR.  R.  "Upon  my  soul,  I  don't 
know  what  you  mean !  I  don't  know 
what  I've  done.  When  you  came  at 


THE   PARLOR    CAR,.  15 

me,  last  night,  with  my  ring  and  pres 
ents  and  other  little  traps,  yon  might 
have  knocked  me  down  with  the  light 
est  of  the  lot.  I  was  perfectly  dazed; 
I  could  n't  say  anything  before  you 
were  off,  and  all  I  could  do  was  to  hope 
that  you  'd  be  more  like  yourself  in  the 
morning.  And  in  the  morning,  when 
I  came  round  to  Mrs.  Phillips's,  I 
found  you  were  gone,  and  I  came  after 
you  by  the  next  train/' 

Miss  G.  "Mr.  Richards,  your  per 
sonal  history  for  the  last  twenty-four 
hours  is  a  matter  of  perfect  indifference 
to  me,  as  it  shall  be  for  the  next 
twenty-four  hundred  years.  I  see  that 


16  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

you  are  resolved  to  annoy  me,  and  since 
you  will  not  leave  the  car,  /  must  do 
so."  She  rises  haughtily  from  her 
seat,  but  the  imprisoned  skirt  of  her 
polonaise  twitches  her  abruptly  back 
into  her  chair.  She  bursts  into  tears. 
"  0,  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

MR.  B.,  dryly.  "  You  shall  do  what 
ever  you  like,  Miss  Galbraith,  when 
I  Ve  set  you  free  ;  for  I  see  your  dress 
is  caught  in  the  window.  When  it's 
once  out,  I'll  shut  the  window,  and 
you  can  call  the  porter  to  raise  it." 
He  leans  forward  over  her  chair,  and 
while  she  shrinks  back  the  length  of 
her  tether,  he  tugs  at  the  window-fast- 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  17 

ening.  "I  can't  get  at  it.  Would 
you  be  so  good  as  to  stand  up,  —  all 
you  can  ?  "  Miss  Galbraith  stands  up, 
droopingly,  and  Mr.  Richards  makes  a 
movement  towards  her,  and  then  falls 
back.  "No,  that  won't  do.  Please 
sit  down  again."  He  goes  round  her 
chair  and  tries  to  get  at  the  window 
from  that  side.  "  I  can't  get  any  pur 
chase  on  it.  Why  don't  you  cut  out 
that  piece  ?  "  Miss  Galbraith  stares  at 
him  in  dumb  amazement.  "Well,  I 
don't  see  what  we're  to  do.  I'll  go 
and  get  the  porter."  He  goes  to  the 
end  of  the  car,  and  returns.  "  I  can't 
find  the  porter,  —  he  must  be  in  one  of 


18  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

the  other  cars.  But" —  brightening 
with  the  fortunate  conception  —  "I \e 
just  thought  of  something.  Will  it 
unbutton  ?  " 

Miss  G.    "Unbutton?" 

MR.  E.  "Yes;  this  garment  of 
yours." 

Miss  G.  "  My  polonaise  ?"  Inquir 
ingly,  "Yes." 

MR.  E.  "Well,  then,  it's  a  very 
simple  matter.  If  you  will  just  take  it 
off  I  can  easily  —  " 

Miss  G.,  faintly.  "  I  can't.  A  polo 
naise  is  n't  like  an  overcoat  —  " 

MR.  E.,  with  dismay.  "  Oh  !  Well, 
then  —  "  He  remains  thinking  a  mo 
ment  in  hopeless  perplexity. 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  19 

Miss  G.,  with  polite  ceremony. 
"  The  porter  will  be  back  soon.  Don't 
trouble  yourself  any  further  about  it, 
please.  I  shall  do  very  well." 

MR.  R,  without  heeding  her.  "  If 
you  could  kneel  on  that  foot-cushion 
and  face  the  window  —  " 

Miss  G.,  kneeling  promptly.    "  So  ?  " 

MR.  E.  "  Yes,  and  now  "  —  kneel 
ing  beside  her  —  "  if  you  '11  allow  me 
to  —  to  get  at  the  window  catch/'  — 
he  stretches  both  arms  forward ;  she 
shrinks  from  his  right  into  his  left,  and 
then  back  again,  —  "and  pull,  while  I 
raise  the  window  —  " 

Miss  G.   "  Yes,  yes ;  but  do  hurry, 


20  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

please.  If  any  one  saw  us,  I  don't 
know  what  they  would  think.  It 's 
perfectly  ridiculous ! "  —  pulling.  "  It 's 
caught  in  the  corner  of  the  window, 
between  the  frame  and  the  sash,  and 
it  won't  come  !  Is  my  hair  troubling 
you  ?  Is  it  in  your  eyes  ?  " 

MR.  E.  "It's  in  my  eyes,  but  it 
isn't  troubling  me.  Am  I  inconven 
iencing  you  ?  'J 

Miss  G.    "  0,  not  at  all." 

MR.  E.  "Well,  now  then,  pull 
hard !  'J  He  lifts  the  window  with  a 
great  effort;  the  polonaise  comes  free 
with  a  start,  and  she  strikes  violently 
against  him.  In  supporting  the  shock 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  21 

he  cannot  forbear  catching  her  for  an 
instant  to  his  heart.  She  frees  herself, 
and  starts  indignantly  to  her  feet. 

Miss  G.  "  0,  what  a  cowardly  — • 
subterfuge !  " 

MR.  E.  "  Cowardly?  You've  no 
idea  how  much  courage  it  took/'  Miss 
Galbraith  puts  her  handkerchief  to  her 
face,,  and  sobs.  "  0,  don't  cry  !  Bless 
my  heart,  —  I  'm  sorry  I  did  it !  But 
you  know  how  dearly  I  love  you,  Lucy, 
though  I  do  think  you've  been  cruelly 
unjust.  I  told  you  I  never  should  love 
any  one  else,  and  I  never  shall.  I 
could  n't  help  it,  upon  my  soul  I  could 
n't.  Nobody  could.  Don't  let  it  vex 
you,  my  —  "  He  approaches  her. 


22  THE    PARLOR   CAR. 

Miss  G.  "  Please  not  touch  me,  sir ! 
You  have  no  longer  any  right  what 
ever  to  do  so." 

MR.  K.  "You  misinterpret  a  very 
inoffensive  gesture.  I  have  no  idea  of 
touching  you,  but  I  hope  I  may  be 
allowed,  as  a  special  favor,  to  —  pick 
up  my  hat,  which  you  are  in  the  act 
of  stepping  on."  Miss  Galbraith  has 
tily  turns,  and  strikes  the  hat  with  her 
whirling  skirts;  it  rolls  to  the  other 
side  of  the  parlor,  and  Mr.  Richards, 
who  goes  after  it,  utters  an  ironical 
"  Thanks  ! "  He  brushes  it  and  puts 
it  on,  looking  at  her  where  she  has 
again  seated  herself  at  the  window 


THE    PARLOR   CAR.  23 

with  her  back  to  him,  and  continues, 
"As  for  any  further  molestation  from 


me—" 


Miss  G.     "If    you    will    talk    to 


me  —  " 


MR.  E.  "  Excuse  me,  I  am  not 
talking  to  you." 

Miss  G.     "  What  were  you  doing?" 

MR.  E.  "  I  was  beginning  to  think 
aloud.  I  —  I  was  soliloquizing.  I 
suppose  I  may  be  allowed  to  solilo 
quize?" 

Miss  G.,  very  coldly.  "You  can  do 
what  you  like." 

MR.  E.  "  Unfortunately  that 's  just 
what  I  can't  do.  If  I  could  do  as  I 


24  THE    PAULOK,    CAR. 

liked,  I  should  ask  you  a  single  ques 
tion/' 

Miss  G.,  after  a  moment.  "Well, 
sir,  you  may  ask  your  question."  She 
remains  as  before,  with  her  chin  in  her 
hand,  looking  tearfully  out  of  the  win 
dow  ;  her  face  is  turned  from  Mr.  Rich 
ards,  who  hesitates  a  moment  before 
he  speaks. 

ME.  E.  "I  wish  to  ask  you  just 
this,  Miss  Galbraith :  if  you  could  n't 
ride  backwards  in  the  other  car,  why 
do  you  ride  backwards  in  this?" 

Miss  G.,  burying  her  face  in  her 
handkerchief,  and  sobbing.  "  Oh,  oh, 
oh!  This  is  too  bad!" 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  25 

MR.  E.  "  0,  come  now,  Lucy. 
It  breaks  my  heart  to  hear  you  going 
on  so,  and  all  for  nothing.  Be  a  little 
merciful  to  both  of  us,  and  listen  to 
me.  I  've  no  doubt  I  can  explain 
everything  if  I  once  understand  it,  but 
it's  pretty  hard  explaining  a  thing  if 
you  don't  understand  it  yourself.  Do 
turn  round.  I  know  it  makes  you  sick 
to  ride  in  that  way,  and  if  you  don't 
want  to  face  me  —  there  !  "  —  wheeling 
in  his  chair  so  as  to  turn  his  back  upon 
her  —  "  you  need  n't.  Though  it 's 
rather  trying  to  a  fellow's  politeness, 
not  to  mention  his  other  feelings.  Now, 
what  in  the  name  — " 


26  THE    PARLOR   CAR. 

PORTER,  who  at  this  moment  enters 
with  his  step-ladder,  and  begins  to  light 
the  lamps.  "  Going  pretty  slow  ag'in, 
sah." 

MR.  E.   "Yes;  what's  the  trouble?" 

PORTER.  "  Well,  I  don't  know  ex 
actly,  sah.  Something  de  matter  with 
de  locomotive.  We  sha'  n't  be  into 
Albany  much  'fore  eight  o'clock." 

MR.  E.  " What's  the  next  sta 
tion?" 

PORTER.    "  Schenectady." 

MR.  E.  "Is  the  whole  train  as 
empty  as  this  car?" 

PORTER,  laughing.  "  Well,  no,  sah. 
Fact  is,  dis  cah  don't  belong  on  dis 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  27 

train.  It  's  a  Pullman  that  we 
hitched  on  when  you  got  in,  and  we  's 
taking  it  along  for  one  of  de  Eastern 
roads.  We  let  you  in  'cause  de  Draw 
ing-rooms  was  all  full.  Same  with  de 
lady/' — looking  sympathetically  at  her, 
as  he  takes  up  his  steps  to  go  out. 
"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  now, 
miss  ?  " 

Miss  G.,  plaintively.  "No,  thank 
you;  nothing  whatever/'  She  has  turned 
while  Mr.  Richards  and  the  porter  have 
been  speaking,  and  now  faces  the  back 
of  the  former,  but  her  veil  is  drawn 
closely.  The  porter  goes  out. 

MR.  E.,   wheeling    round   so   as  to 


28  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

confront  her.  "I  wish  you  would  speak 
to  me  half  as  kindly  as  you  do  to  that 
darky,  Lucy/"' 

Miss  G.  "He  is  a  gentleman!" 
MR.  R.  "  He  is  an  urbane  and  well- 
informed  nobleman.  At  any  rate,  he 's 
a  man  and  a  brother.  But  so  am  I." 
Miss  Galbraith  does  not  reply,  and 
after  a  pause  Mr.  Richards  resumes. 
"Talking  of  gentlemen,  I  recollect, 
once,  coming  up  on  the  day-boat  to 
Poughkeepsie,  there  was  a  poor  devil 
of  a  tipsy  man  kept  following  a  young 
fellow  about,  and  annoying  him  to 
death, — trying  to  fight  him,  as  a  tipsy 
man  will,  and  insisting  that  the  young 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  29 

fellow  had  insulted  him.  By  and  by 
he  lost  his  balance  and  went  overboard, 
and  the  other  jumped  after  him  and 
fished  him  out."  Sensation  on  the 
part  of  Miss  Galbraith,  who  stirs  un 
easily  in  her  chair,  looks  out  of  the 
window,  then  looks  at  Mr.  Richards, 
and  drops  her  head.  "There  was  a 
young  lady  on  board,  who  had  seen 
the  whole  thing,  —  a  very  charming 
young  lady  indeed,  with  pale  blond 
hair  growing  very  thick  over  her  fore 
head,  and  dark  eyelashes  to  the  sweet 
est  blue  eyes  in  the  world.  Well,  this 
young  lady's  papa  was  amongst  those 
who  came  up  to  say  civil  things  to 


30  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

the  young  fellow  when  he  got  aboard 
again,  and  to  ask  the  honor  —  he  said 
the  honor  —  of  his  acquaintance.  And 
when  he  came  out  of  his  state-room  in 
dry  clothes,  this  infatuated  old  gentle 
man  was  waiting  for  him,  and  took 
him  and  introduced  him  to  his  wife 
and  daughter.  And  the  daughter  said, 
with  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  a  perfectly 
intoxicating  impulsiveness,  that  it  was 
the  grandest  and  the  most  heroic  and 
the  noblest  thing  that  she  had  ever 
seen,  and  she  should  always  be  a  better 
girl  for  having  seen  it.  Excuse  me, 
Miss  Galbraith,  for  troubling  you  with 
these  facts  of  a  personal  history  which, 


THE    PARLOR   CAB. 


31 


as  you  say,  is  a  matter  of  perfect  indif 
ference  to  you.  The  young  fellow 
did  n't  think  at  the  time  he  had 
done  anything  extraordinary;  but  I 
don't  suppose  he  did  expect  to  live 
to  have  the  same  girl  tell  him  he  was 
no  gentleman/' 

Miss  G.,  wildly.  "0  Allen,  Al 
len  !  You  know  I  think  you  are  a 
gentleman,  and  I  always  did !  'J 

MR.  E.,  languidly.  "  0,  I  merely 
had  your  word  for  it,  just  now,  that 
you  didn't/'  Tenderly,  "Will  you 
hear  me,  Lucy  ?  " 

Miss  G.,  faintly.     "Yes." 

MR.  E.      "Well,   what  is   it   I've 


32  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

done?     Will  you  tell  me  if  I  guess 
right?" 

Miss  G.,  with  dignity.  "I  am  in 
no  humor  for  jesting,  Allen.  And  I 
can  assure  you  that  though  I  consent 
to  hear  what  you  have  to  say,  or  ask, 
nothing  will  change  my  determination. 
All  is  over  between  us." 

MR.  E.  "Yes,  I  understand  that 
perfectly.  I  am  now  asking  merely 
for  general  information.  I  do  not  ex 
pect  you  to  relent,  and  in  fact  I  should 
consider  it  rather  frivolous  if  you  did. 
No.  What  I  have  always  admired  in 
your  character,  Lucy,  is  a  firm,  logical 
consistency ;  a  clearness  of  mental 


THE    PARLOB,    CAR.  33 

vision  that  leaves  no  side  of  a  subject 
unsearched ;  and  an  unwavering  con 
stancy  of  purpose.  You  may  say  that 
these  traits  are  characteristic  of  all 
women ;  but  they  are  pre-eminently 
characteristic  of  you,  Lucy."  Miss  Gal- 
braith  looks  askance  at  him,  to  make 
out  whether  he  is  in  earnest  or  not ; 
he  continues,  with  a  perfectly  serious 
air.  "  And  I  know  now  that  if  you  're 
offended  with  me,  it's  for  no  trivial 
cause."  She  stirs  uncomfortably  in 
her  chair.  "  What  I  have  done  I  can't 
imagine,  but  it  must  be  something 
monstrous,  since  it  has  made  life  with 
me  appear  so  impossible  that  you  are 


34  THE   PARLOR    CAR. 

ready  to  fling  away  your  own  happi 
ness —  for  I  know  you  did  love  me, 
Lucy  —  and  destroy  mine.  I  wall  be 
gin  with  the  worst  thing  I  can  think 
of.  Was  it  because  I  danced  so  much 
with  Fanny  Watervliet?" 

Miss  G.,  indignantly.  "  How  can 
you  insult  me  by  supposing  that  I 
could  be  jealous  of  such  a  perfect  little 
goose  as  that?  No,  Allen!  What 
ever  I  think  of  you,  I  still  respect 
you  too  much  for  that" 

MR.  E.  "I'm  glad  to  hear  that 
there  are  yet  depths  to  which  you  think 
me  incapable  of  descending,  and  that 
Miss  Watervliet  is  one  of  them.  I 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  35 

will  now  take  a  little  higher  ground. 
Perhaps  you  think  I  flirted  with  Mrs. 
Dawes.  I  thought,  myself,  that  the 
thing  might  begin  to  have  that  ap 
pearance,  but  I  give  you  my  word  of 
honor  that  as  soon  as  the  idea  occurred 
to  me,  I  dropped  her,  —  rather  rudely, 
too.  The  trouble  was,  don't  you  know, 
that  I  felt  so  perfectly  safe  with  a  mar 
ried  friend  of  yours.  I  couldn't  be 
hanging  about  you  all  the  time,  and 
I  was  afraid  I  might  vex  you  if  I 
went  with  the  other  girls ;  and  I 
did  n't  know  what  to  do." 

Miss   G.      "I   think  you  behaved 
rather   silly,    giggling   so    much    with 

V»pr         "Rnf » 


36  THE    PA11LOH    CAR. 

ME.  E.  "  I  own  it,  I  know  it  was 
silly.  But  —  " 

Miss  G.  "It  wasn't  that;  it  was 
n't  that ! " 

Mr.  E.  "Was  it  my  forgetting  to 
bring  you  those  things  from  your 
mother  ?  " 

Miss  G.     "No!" 

ME.  E.  "  Was  it  because  I  had  n't 
given  up  smoking  yet?" 

Miss  G.  "You  know  I  never  asked 
you  to  give  up  smoking.  It  was  en 
tirely  your  own  proposition." 

ME.  E.  "That's  true.  That's 
what  made  me  so  easy  about  it.  I 
knew  I  could  leave  it  off  any  time. 


THE    PARLOR   CAR.  37 

Well,  I  will  not  disturb  you  any  longer, 
Miss  Galbraith."  He  throws  his  over 
coat  across  his  arm,  and  takes  up  his 
travelling-bag.  "I  have  failed  to  guess 
your  fatal  —  conundrum;  and  I  have 
no  longer  any  excuse  for  remaining. 
I  am  going  into  the  smoking-car. 
Shall  I  send  the  porter  to  you  for 
anything  ?  " 

Miss  G.  "  No,  thanks."  She  puts 
up  her  handkerchief  to  her  face. 

MR.  B.  "Lucy,  do  you  send  me 
away  ?  " 

Miss  G.,  behind  her  handkerchief. 
"You  were  going,  yourself." 

MR.  E.,  over  his  shoulder.  "Shall 
I  come  back  ?  " 


THE    PARLOll    CAIl. 

Miss  G.  "I  have  no  right  to 
drive  you  from  the  car." 

MR.  B.,  coming  back,  and  sitting 
down  in  the  chair  nearest  her.  "  Lucy, 
dearest,  tell  me  what 's  the  mat 
ter/' 

Miss  G.  "0,  Allen,  your  not 
knowing  makes  it  all  the  more  hopeless 
and  killing.  It  shows  me  that  we 
must  part;  that  you  would  go  on, 
breaking  my  heart,  and  grinding  me 
into  the  dust  as  long  as  we  lived." 
She  sobs.  "It  shows  me  that  you 
never  understood  me,  and  you  never 
will.  I  know  you're  good  and  kind 
and  all  that,  but  that  only  makes 


THE   PARLOR   CAR,.  39 

your  not  understanding  me  so  much 
the  worse.  I  do  it  quite  as  much  for 
your  sake  as  my  own,  Allen." 

MR.  R.  "  I  'd.  much  rather  you 
would  n't  put  yourself  out  on  my  ac 
count." 

Miss  G.,  without  regarding  him. 
"If  you  could  mortify  me  before  a 
whole  roomful  of  people  as  you  did 
last  night,  what  could  I  expect  after 
marriage  but  continual  insult  ?  " 

MR.  E._,  in  amazement.  "How  did 
I  mortify  you?  I  thought  that  I 
treated  you  with  all  the  tenderness 
and  affection  that  a  decent  regard  for 
the  feelings  of  others  would  allow.  I 


40  THE   PARLOR   CAR. 

was  ashamed  to  find  I  could  n't  keep 
away  from  you." 

Miss  G.  "  0,  you  were  attentive 
enough,  Allen;  nobody  denies  that. 
Attentive  enough  in  non  -  essentials. 

0  yes ! " 

MR.  E.  "  Well,  what  vital  matters 
did  I  fail  in  ?  I  'm  sure  I  can't  re 
member." 

Miss  G.  "  I  dare  say  !  I  dare  say 
they  won't  appear  vital  to  you,  Allen. 
Nothing  does.  And  if  I  had  told  you, 

1  should  have  been  met  with  ridicule, 
I  suppose.      But  I  knew  better  than 
to  tell ;  I  respected  myself  too  much." 

MR.  E.     "  But   now  you  must  n't 


THE   PARLOR   CAR.  41 

respect  yourself  quite  so  much,  dearest. 
And  I  promise  you  I  won't  laugh  at 
the  most  serious  thing.  I  'm  in  no 
humor  for  it.  If  it  were  a  matter  of 
life  and  death,  even,  I  can  assure  you 
that  it  wouldn't  bring  a  smile  to  my 
countenance.  No,  indeed  !  If  you  ex 
pect  me  to  laugh,  now,  you  must  say 
something  particularly  funny." 

Miss  G.  "  I  was  not  going  to  say 
anything  funny  y  as  you  call  it,  and  I 
will  say  nothing  at  all,  if  you  talk  in 
that  way." 

MR.  R.  "Well,  I  won't,  then. 
But  do  you  know  what  I  suspect, 
Lucy  ?  I  would  n't  mention  it  to 


42  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

everybody,  but  I  will  to  you  —  in 
strict  confidence  :  I  suspect  that  you  ''re 
rather  ashamed  of  your  grievance,  if 
you  have  any.  I  suspect  it's  nothing 
at  all/' 

Miss  G.,  very  sternly  at  first,  with 
a  rising  hysterical  inflection.  "  Noth 
ing,  Allen !  Do  you  call  it  nothing, 
to  have  Mrs.  Dawes  come  out  with 
all  that  about  your  accident  on  your 
way  up  the  river,  and  ask  me  if  it 
did  n't  frighten  me  terribly  to  hear 
of  it,  even  after  it  was  all  over;  and 
I  had  to  say  you  had  n't  told  me  a 
word  of  it  ?  '  Why,  Lucy  ! ' "  —  an 
grily  mimicking  Mrs.  Dawes,  - —  "  '  you 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  43 

must  teach  him  better  than  that.  I 
make  Mr.  Dawes  tell  me  everything/ 
Little  simpleton  !  And  then  to  have 
them  all  laugh,  —  0  dear,  it 's  too 
much ! " 

MR.  R.  "Why,  my  dear  Luey- 
Miss  G.,  interrupting  him.  "  I  saw 
just  how  it  was  going  to  be,  and  I  'm 
thankful,  thankful  that  it  happened. 
I  saw  that  you  did  n't  care  enough 
for  me  to  take  me  into  your  whole 
life;  that  you  despised  and  distrusted 
me,  and  that  it  would  get  worse  and 
worse  to  the  end  of  our  days ;  that 
we  should  grow  further  and  further 
apart,  and  I  should  be  left  moping  at 


44  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

home,  while  you  ran  about  making 
confidantes  of  other  women  whom  you 
considered  worthy  of  your  confidence. 
It  all  flashed  upon  me  in  an  instant; 
and  I  resolved  to  break  with  you,  then 
and  there ;  and  I  did,  just  as  soon  as 
ever  I  could  go  to  my  room  for  your 
things,  and  I  'm  glad,  —  yes,  —  0  hu, 
hu,  hu,  hu,  hu  !  —  so  glad  I  did  it !  " 

MR.  E.,  grimly.  "  Your  joy  is  ob 
vious.  May  I  ask  —  " 

Miss  G.  "  0,  it  was  n't  the  first 
proof  you  had  given  me  how  little  you 
really  cared  for  me,  but  I  was  deter 
mined  it  should  be  the  last.  I  dare 
say  you  Ve  forgotten  them !  I  dare 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  45 

say  you  don't  remember  telling  Mamie 
Morris  that  you  did  n't  like  crocheted 
cigar-cases,  when  you  'd  just  told  me 
that  you  did,  and  let  me  be  such  a 
fool  as  to  commence  one  for  you ;  but 
I  'm  thankful  to  say  that  went  into 
the  fire,  —  O  yes,  instantly  !  And 
I  dare  say  you  've  forgotten  that  you 
did  n't  tell  me  your  brother's  engage 
ment  was  to  be  kept,  and  let  me  come 
out  with  it  that  night  at  the  Budges' 
and  then  looked  perfectly  aghast,  so 
that  everybody  thought  I  had  been 
blabbing  !  Time  and  again,  Allen,  you 
have  made  me  suffer  agonies,  yes,  ago 
nies  ;  but  your  power  to  do  so  is  at 


46  THE   PARLOR   CAR. 

an  end.     I  am  free  and  happy  at  last." 
She  weeps  bitterly. 

MR.  K.,  quietly.  "  Yes,  I  ha d  for 
gotten  those  crimes,  and  I  suppose 
many  similar  atrocities.  I  own  it,  I 
am  forgetful  and  careless.  I  was 
wrong  about  those  things.  I  ought 
to  hare  told  you  why  I  said  that  to 
Miss  Morris;  I  was  afraid  she  was 
going  to  work  me  one.  As  to  that 
accident  I  told  Mrs.  Dawes  of,  it 
wasn't  worth  mentioning.  Our  boat 
simply  walked  over  a  sloop  in  the 
night,  and  nobody  was  hurt.  I  should 
n't  have  thought  twice  about  it,  if 
she  had  n't  happened  to  brag  of  their 


THE    PARLOE    CAR.  47 

passing  close  to  an  iceberg  on  their 
way  home  from  Europe ;  then  I  trotted 
out  my  pretty-near  disaster  as  a  match 
for  hers, — confound  her  !  I  wish  the 
iceberg  had  sunk  them !  Only  it  would 
n't  have  sunk  her,  —  she  's  so  light ; 
she  'd  have  gone  bobbing  about  all  over 
the  Atlantic  Ocean,  like  a  cork ;  she  's 
got  a  perfect  life-preserver  in  that  mind 
of  hers/'  Miss  Galbraith  gives  a  little 
laugh,  and  then  a  little  moan.  "But 
since  you  are  happy,  I  will  not  repine, 
Miss  Galbraith.  I  don't  pretend  to 
be  very  happy  myself,  but  then,  I  don't 
deserve  it.  Since  you  are  ready  to  let 
an  absolutely  unconscious  offence  on 


48  THE   PARLOR   CAR. 

my  part  cancel  all  the  past ;  since  you 
let  my  devoted  love  weigh  as  nothing 
against  the  momentary  pique  that  a 
malicious  little  rattle-pate  —  she  was 
vexed  at  my  leaving  her  —  could  make 
you  feel,  and  choose  to  gratify  a  wicked 
resentment  at  the  cost  of  any  suffering 
to  me,  why,  /  can  be  glad  and  happy, 
too."  With  rising  anger,  "  Yes,  Miss 
Galbraith.  All  is  over  between  us. 
You  can  go  !  I  renounce  you ! " 

Miss  G.,  springing  fiercely  to  her 
feet.  "  Go,  indeed  !  Renounce  me  ! 
Be  so  good  as  to  remember  that  you 
have  n't  got  me  to  renounce  ! >J 

MR.  E.     "Well,  it's  all  the  same 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  49 

thing.  I'd  renounce  you  if  I  had. 
Good  evening,  Miss  Galbraith.  I  will 
send  back  your  presents  as  soon  as  I 
get  to  town ;  it  won't  be  necessary  to 
acknowledge  them.  I  hope  we  may 
never  meet  again/'  He  goes  out  of 
the  door  towards  the  front  of  the  car, 
but  returns  directly,  and  glances  un 
easily  at  Miss  Galbraith,  who  remains 
with  her  handkerchief  pressed  to  her 
eyes.  "Ah  —  a  —  that  is  —  I  shall 
be  obliged  to  intrude  upon  you  again. 
The  fact  is  —  " 

Miss  G.,  anxiously.  "Why,  the  cars 
have  stopped !  Are  we  at  Schenec- 
tady  ?  " 


50  THE    PAELOft    CAR. 

MR.  R.  "  Well,  no ;  not  exactly  ; 
not  exactly  at  Sekeneciady  —  " 

Miss  G.  "Then  what  station  is 
this  ?  Have  they  carried  me  by  ? n 
Observing  his  embarrassment,  "  Allen, 
what  is  the  matter?  What  has  hap 
pened  ?  Tell  me  instantly  !  Are  we  off 
the  track  ?  Have  we  run  into  another 
train  ?  Have  we  broken  through  a 
bridge  ?  Shall  we  be  burnt  alive  ?  Tell 
me,  Allen,  tell  me, — I  can  bear  it !  — 
are  we  telescoped  ? "  She  wrings  her 
hands  in  terror. 

MR.  E.,  unsympathetically.  "  Noth 
ing  of  the  kind  has  happened.  This 
car  has  simply  come  uncoupled,  and 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  51 

the  rest  of  the  train  has  gone  on  ahead, 
and  left  us  standing  on  the  track,  no 
where  in  particular."  He  leans  back  in 
his  chair,  and  wheels  it  round  from  her. 

Miss  G.,  mortified,  yet  anxious. 
"Well?" 

MR.  R.  "  Well,  until  they  miss  us, 
and  run  back  to  pick  us  up,  I  shall 
be  obliged  to  ask  your  indulgence.  I 
will  try  not  to  disturb  you ;  I  would 
go  out  and  stand  on  the  platform,  but 
it 's  raining." 

Miss  G.,  listening  to  the  rain-fall  on 
the  roof.  "  Why,  so  it  is!"  Tim 
idly,  "  Did  you  notice  when  the  car 
stopped  ?  r' 


52  THE    PARLOll    CAR. 

MR.  E.  "  No."  He  rises  and  goes 
out  at  the  rear  door,  comes  back,  and 
sits  down  again. 

Miss  G.  rises  and  goes  to  the  large 
mirror  to  wipe  away  her  tears.  She 
glances  at  Mr.  Richards,  who  does  not 
move.  She  sits  down  in  a  seat  nearer 
him  than  the  chair  she  has  left.  After 
some  faint  murmurs  and  hesitations, 
she  asks,  "  Will  you  please  tell  me  why 
you  went  out  just  now  ?  " 

MR.  E.,  with  indifference.  "  Yes.  I 
went  to  see  if  the  rear  signal  was  out." 

Miss  G.,  after  another  hesitation. 
"  Why  ?  " 

MR.  E.   "  Because,  if  it  was  n't  out, 


THE    PARLOR   CAR.  53 

some  train  might  run  into  us  from  that 
direction." 

Miss  G.,  tremulously.  "  Oh !  And 
was  it  ?  " 

MR.  E.,  dryly.    "Yes." 

Miss  G.  returns  to  her  former  place, 
with  a  wounded  air,  and  for  a  moment 
neither  speaks.  Finally  she  asks  very 
meekly,  "  And  there  '$  no  danger  from 
the  front  ?  " 

MR.  E.,  coldly.    "No." 

Miss  G.,  after  some  little  noises  and 
movements  meant  to  catch  Mr.  E/s  at 
tention.  "  Of  course,  I  never  meant  to 
imply  that  you  were  intentionally  care 
less  or  forgetful." 


54  THE    PARLOR   CAR. 

MR.  B.,  still  very  coldly.    "Thank 


Miss  G.  "  I  always  did  justice  to 
your  good-heartedness,  Allen;  you're 
perfectly  lovely  that  way  ;  and  I  know 
that  you  would  be  sorry  if  you  knew 
you  had  wounded  my  feelings,  however 
accidentally."  She  droops  her  head  so 
as  to  catch  a  sidelong  glimpse  of  his 
face,  and  sighs,  while  she  nervously 
pinches  the  top  of  her  parasol,  resting 
the  point  on  the  floor.  Mr.  B.  makes 
no  answer.  "  That  about  the  cigar-case 
might  have  been  a  mistake  ;  I  saw  that 
myself,  and,  as  you  explain  it,  why,  it 
was  certainly  very  kind  and  very  credit- 


THE   PARLOR   CAR.  55 

able  to —  to  your   thoughtfulness.     It 
was  thoughtful !  'j 

MR.  R.  "I  am  grateful  for  your 
good  opinion/' 

Miss  G.  "  But  do  you  think  it  was 
exactly  —  it  was  quite  —  nice,  not  to 
tell  me  that  your  brother's  engagement 
was  to  be  kept,  when  you  know,  Allen, 
I  can't  bear  to'  blunder  in  such 
things  ?  "  Tenderly,  "  Do  you  ?  You 
can't  say  it  was  ?  'J 

MR.  E.   "  I  never  said  it  was/' 

Miss  G.,  plaintively.  "No,  Allen. 
That's  what  I  always  admired  in  your 
character.  You  always  owned  up. 
Don't  you  think  it 's  easier  for  men  to 
own  up  than  it  is  for  women  ?  'J 


56  THE    PARLOR   CAR. 

MR.  E.  "I  don't  know.  I  never 
knew  any  woman  to  do  it." 

Miss  G.  "0  yes,  Allen!  You 
know  I  often  own  up." 

MR.  E.   "No,  I  don't." 

Miss  G.  "  0,  how  can  you  bear  to 
say  so  ?  When  I  'm  rash,  or  anything 
of  that  kind,  you  know  I  acknowledge 
it." 

MR.  E.  "Do  you  acknowledge  it 
now  ?  " 

Miss  G.  "  Why,  how  can  I,  when  I 
have  n't  been  rash  ?  What  have  I  been 
rash  about  ?  " 

MR.  E.  "About  the  cigar-case,  for 
example." 


THE    PARLOE    CAR.  57 

Miss  G.  "  Oh  !  That  !  That  was  a 
great  while  ago  !  I  thought  you  meant 
something  quite  recent."  A  sound  as 
of  the  approaching  train  is  heard  in  the 
distance.  She  gives  a  start,  and  then 
leaves  her  chair  again  for  one  a  little 
nearer  his.  "I  thought  perhaps  you 
meant  about  —  last  night." 

MR.E.   "Well?" 

Miss  G.,  very  judicially.  "I  don't 
think  it  was  rash,  exactly.  No,  not 
rash.  It  might  not  have  been  very 
kind  not  to  —  to  —  trust  you  more, 
when  I  knew  that  you  didn't  mean 
anything ;  but  —  No,  I  took  the  only 
course  I  could.  JVobody  could  have 


58  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

done  differently  under  the  circum 
stances.  But  if  I  caused  you  any  pain, 
I  'm  very  sorry ;  0  yes,  very  sorry 
indeed.  But  I  was  not  precipitate,  and 
I  know  I  did  right.  At  least  I  tried 
*to  act  for  the  best.  Don't  you  believe 
I  did?" 

MR.  R.  "Why,  if  you  have  no 
doubt  upon  the  subject,  my  opinion  is 
of  no  consequence." 

Miss  G.  "Yes.  But  what  do  you 
think  ?  If  you  think  differently,  and 
can  make  me  see  it  differently,  ought  n't 
you  to  do  so  ?  " 

MR.  R.  "  I  don't  see  why.  As  you 
say,  all  is  over  between  us." 


THE   PARLOR   CAR.  59 

Miss  G.  "  Yes."  After  a  pause, 
"I  should  suppose  you  would  care 
enough  for  yourself  to  wish  me  to  look 
at  the  matter  from  the  right  point  of 


view." 


MR.  K.   "I  don't." 

Miss  G.,  becoming  more  and  more 
uneasy  as  the  noise  of  the  approaching 
train  grows  louder.  "  I  think  you  have 
been  very  quick  with  me  at  times, 
quite  as  quick  as  I  could  have  been 
with  you  last  night."  The  noise  is 
more  distinctly  heard.  "Pm  sure 
that  if  I  could  once  see  it  as  you  do,  no 
one  would  be  more  willing  to  do  any 
thing  in  their  power  to  atone  for  their 


60  THE   PARLOR   CAR. 

rashness.  Of  course  I  know  that  every 
thing  is  over." 

MR.  R.  "As  to  that,  I  have  your 
word ;  and,  in  view  of  the  fact,  perhaps 
this  analysis  of  motive,  of  character, 
however  interesting  on  general  grounds, 
is  a  little  —  " 

Miss  G.,  with  sudden  violence. 
"Say  it,  and  take  your  revenge!  I 
have  put  myself  at  your  feet,  and  you 
do  right  to  trample  on  me !  0,  this 
is  what  women  may  expect  when  they 
trust  to  men's  generosity  !  Well,  it  is 
over  now,  and  I  'm  thankful,  thankful ! 
Cruel,  suspicious,  vindictive,  you  're 
all  alike,  and  I'm  glad  that  I'm  no 


THE   PAELOR   CAR.  61 

longer  subject  to  your  heartless  ca 
prices.  And  I  don't  care  what  hap 
pens  after  this,  I  shall  always  —  Oh ! 
You  're  sure  it 's  from  the  front, 
Allen?  Are  you  sure  the  rear  signal 
is  out?" 

MR.  R.,  relenting.  "  Yes,  but  if  it 
will  ease  your  mind,  I  '11  go  and  look 
again."  He  rises  and  starts  towards 
the  rear  door. 

Miss  G.,  quickly.  "  0  no  !  Don't 
go!  I  can't  bear  to  be  left  alone!" 
The  sound  of  the  approaching  train 
continually  increases  in  volume.  "O, 
is  n't  it  coming  very,  very,  very 
fast?" 


62 


THE    PARLOR    CAR. 


MR.     E.      "No,     no!     Don't    be 
frightened." 

Miss  G.,  running  towards  the  rear 
door.     "  0,  I  must  get  out !     It  will 
kill  me,  I  know  it  will.     Come  with 
me  !    Do,  do  !  "    He  runs  after  her,  and 
her  voice  is  heard  at  the  rear  of  the  car. 
"0,  the  outside,  door  is  locked,  and  we 
are     trapped,    trapped,    trapped !      O, 
quick!      Let's   try   the   door   at    the 
other  end."     They  re-enter  the  parlor, 
and  the  roar  of  the  train  announces  that 
it  is  upon  them.     "  No,  no  !     It 's  too 
late,    it's    too  late!    I'm    a    wicked, 
wicked  girl,  and  this  is  all  to  punish 
me!     0,  it's  coming,   it's  coming  at 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  63 

full  speed  !  "  He  remains  bewildered, 
confronting  her.  She  utters  a  wild  cry, 
and,  as  the  train  strikes  the  car  with 
a  violent  concussion,  she  flings  herself 
into  his  arms.  "  There,  there  !  For 
give  me,  Allen  !  Let  us  die  together, 
my  own,  own  love ! "  She  hangs 
fainting  on  his  breast.  Voices  are 
heard  without,  and  after  a  little  de 
lay  the  porter  comes  in  with  a  lantern. 
•  PORTER.  "Rather  more  of  a  jah 
than  we  meant  to  give  you,  sah  !  We 
had  to  run  down  pretty  quick  after  we 
missed  you,  and  the  rain  made  the  track 
a  little  slippery.  Lady  much  fright 
ened?" 


64  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

Miss  G.,  disengaging  herself.  "  0, 
not  at  all!  Not  in  the  least.  We 
thought  it  was  a  train  coming  from 
behind,  and  going  to  run  into  us,  and 
so  —  we  —  I  —  " 

PORTER.  "  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that. 
"We  '11  be  into  Schenectady  in  a  few 
minutes,  miss.  I  '11  come  for  your 
things/'  He  goes  out  at  the  other 
door. 

Miss  G.,  in  a  fearful  whisper.  "  Al 
len  !  What  will  he  ever  think  of  us  ? 
I  'm  sure  he  saw  us  !  " 

MR.  E.  "  I  don't  know  what  he  '11 
think  now.  He  did  think  you  were 
frightened ;  but  you  told  him  you  were 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  65 

not.  However,  it  is  n't  important  what 
he  thinks.  Probably  he  thinks  I'm 
your  long-lost  brother.  It  had  a  kind 
of  familiar  look."" 

MissG.   " Ridiculous!" 

MR.  R.  "Why,  he'd  never  sup 
pose  that  I  was  a  jilted  lover  of 
yours !  " 

Miss  G.,  ruefully.     "  No." 

MR.  R.  "Come,  Lucy/'  —  taking 
her  hand,  —  "  you  wished  to  die  with 
me,  a  moment  ago.  Don't  you  think 
you  can  make  one  more  effort  to  live 
with  me?  I  won't  take  advantage  of 
words  spoken  in  mortal  peril,  but  I 
suppose  you  were  in  earnest  when  you 


66  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

called  me  your  own  —  own  —  "  Her 
head  droops ;  lie  folds  her  in  his  arms, 
a  moment,  then  she  starts  away  from 
him,  as  if  something  had  suddenly  oc 
curred  to  her. 

Miss    G.     "  Allen,   where   are  you 

going?'' 

MR.  E.  "  Going  ?  Upon  my  soul,  I 
haven 't  the  least  idea/' 

Miss  G.  "  Where  were  you  going  ?  " 

MR.  E.  "0,  I  was  going  to 
Albany/3 

Miss  G.  " "Well,  don't!  Aunt  Mary 
is  expecting  me  here  at  Schenectady,  — 
I  telegraphed  her,  —  and  I  want  you 
to  stop  here,  too,  and  we  '11  refer  the 


THE    PARLOR    CAR.  67 

whole  matter  to  her.  She 's  such  a 
wise  old  head.  I  'm  not  sure  —  " 

MR.  E.   "What?" 

Miss  G.,  demurely.  "That  I'm 
good  enough  for  you." 

MR.  E.,  starting,  in  burlesque  of  her 
movement,  as  if  a  thought  had  struck 
him.  "  Lucy !  how  came  you  on  this 
train  when  you  left  Syracuse  on  the 
morning  express  ?  " 

Miss  G.,  faintly.  "  I  waited  over  a 
train  at  Utica."  She  sinks  into  a  chair 
and  averts  her  face. 

MR.  E.   "  May  I  ask  why  ?  " 

Miss  G.,  more  faintly  still.  "  I 
don't  like  to  tell.  I  —  " 


68  THE   PARLOR   CAR. 

MR.  E.,  coining  and  standing  in 
front  of  her,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets.  "Look  me  in  the  eye, 
Lucy  ! "  She  drops  her  veil  over  her 
face,  and  looks  up  at  him.  "  Did  you 
—  did  you  expect  to  find  me  on  this 
train?" 

Miss  G.  "  I  was  afraid  it  never 
would  get  along,  —  it  was  so  late  !  " 

MR.  E.   "  Don't  —  tergiversate/' 

Miss  G.   "Don't  what?" 

MR.  E.   "Fib." 

MissG.   "Not  for  worlds!" 

MR.  E.  "  How  did  you  know  I  was 
in  this  car  ?  " 

Miss  G.     "Must  I?     I  thought  I 


THE    PARLOR   CAR.  69 

saw  you  through  the  window ;  and  then 
I  made  sure  it  was  you  when  I  went 
to  pin  my  veil  on,  —  I  saw  you  in  the 


mirror." 


MR.  K.,  after  a  little  silence.     "Miss 

Galbraith,  do  you  want  to  know  what 

you  are  ?  " 

Miss  G.,  softly.  "  Yes,  Allen/' 
MR.  E.  "  You  're  a  humbug  !  " 
Miss  G.,  springing  from  her  seat,  and 

confronting  him.     "  So  are  you  !     You 

pretended  to  be  asleep  ! " 

MR.   R.   "I  —  I  —  I  was  taken  by 

surprise.      I    had    to    take    time     to 

think." 

MissG.  "So  did  I." 


70  THE    PARLOR    CAR. 

MR.  E.  "  And  you  thought  it  would 
be  a  good  plan  to  get  your  polonaise 
caught  in  the  window  ?  " 

Miss  G.,  hiding  her  face  on  his 
shoulder.  "No,  no,  Allen!  That  I 
never  will  admit.  No  woman  would  !  " 

MR.  E.  "  0,  I  dare  say  !  "  After  a 
pause :  "  Well,  I  am  a  poor,  weak, 
helpless  man,  with  no  one  to  advise  me 
or  counsel  me,  and  I  have  been  cruelly 
deceived.  How  could  you,  Lucy,  how 
could  you?  I  can  never  get  over 
this."  He  drops  his  head  upon  her 
shoulder. 

V      Miss   G.,  starting  away   again   and 
looking  about  the  car.     "  Allen,  I  have 


THE    PAULOE    CAR. 


71 


an  idea  !  Do  you  suppose  Mr.  Pullman 
could  be  induced  to  sell  this  car  ?  " 

MR.  R.   "Why?" 

Miss  G.  "Why,  because  I  think 
it 's  perfectly  lovely,  and  I  should  like 
to  live  in  it  always.  It  could  be  fitted 
up  for  a  sort  of  summer-house,  don't 
you  know,  and  we  could  have  it  in  the 
garden,  and  you  could  smoke  in  it." 

MR.  R.  "  Admirable !  It  would 
look  just  like  a  travelling  photographic 
saloon.  No,  Lucy,  we  won't  buy  it ; 
we  will  simply  keep  it  as  a  precious 
souvenir,  a  sacred  memory,  a  beautiful 
dream,  —  and  let  it  go  on  fulfilling  its 
destiny  all  the  same." 


72  THE    PARLOR   CAR. 

PORTER,  entering  and  gathering  up 
Miss  Galbraith's  things.  "  Be  at  Sche- 
nectady  in  half  a  minute,  miss.  Won't 
have  much  time." 

Miss  G.,  rising  and  adjusting  her 
dress,  and  then  looking  about  the  car, 
while  she  passes  her  hand  through  her 
lover's  arm.  "  O,  I  do  hate  to  leave  it. 
Farewell,  you  dear,  kind,  good,  lovely 
car !  May  you  never  have  another  acci 
dent  !  "  She  kisses  her  hand  to  the 
car,  upon  which  they  both  look  back  as 
they  slowly  leave  it. 

MR.  R.,  kissing  his  hand  in  like 
manner.  "Good  by,  sweet  chariot! 
May  you  never  carry  any  but  bridal 
couples  !  " 


Hn 

Cf^R;.;  to 

Miss  G.   "  Or  engaged  ones  !  " 

MR.  E.  "  Or  husbands  going  home 
to  their  wives  !  y' 

Miss  G.  "Or  wives  hastening  to 
their  husbands." 

MR.  E.  "Or  young  ladies  who  have 
waited  one  train  over,  so  as  to  be  with 
the  young  men  they  hate." 

Miss  G.  "Or  young  men  who  are 
so  indifferent  that  they  pretend  to  be 
asleep  when  the  young  ladies  come  in  !  " 
They  pause  at  the  door  and  look  back 
again.  "  '  And  must  I  leave  thee,  Par 
adise  ?  '  "  They  both  kiss  their  hands 
to  the  car  again,  and,  their  faces  being 
very  close  together,  they  impulsively 


74 

kiss  each  other.  Then  Miss  Galbraith 
throws  back  her  head,  and  solemnly 
confronts  him.  "  Only  think,  Allen  ! 
If  this  car  had  n't  broken  its  engage 
ment,  we  might  never  have  mended 


ours/' 


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